A Phantom's Legacy
by InceptionErection
Summary: Set after the final scene of the movie, and after, centered around Meg persuading the Phantom to come with her so she can provide him with safety. This is their Legacy. 2004 movie!verse Phantom and Meg with snippets of S. Kay's Phantom used. Cheesy fluffly MegxErik all the way. Prepare for cheese and fluff out the wazoo. Fair warning: may be OOC, rushed, and romantical.
1. Chapter 1

**Confession of a Wallflower **

**Chapter 1 **

**A/N:** _Okay, so the age thing here, I know it's a bit tricky to tell in the movie how old everyone is but I'm gonna say Mme. Giry was 17 when she found Erik (Very very very rough guesstimate.) and Erik was about 7. I'm gonna say Meg is 21 or 22 in the final scene of the movie and Erik was 31-32. (It's been confirmed that Christine was about 20 when the events took place. I'm gonna say Meg was a year or two older than Christine just so the story fits together a little better.)_

_Enjoy :)_

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own anything associated or related to Phantom of the Opera._

* * *

She watched from a distance as Raoul approached the threshold of the Phantom of the opera. She had followed down, against her mother's wishes and she was now almost witnessing the murder of her best friend's fiancé. She watched as the Phantom bargained Christine, be with him and set Raoul free, or kill Raoul. She watched in horror as the Phantom darkly told her to make her choice. She was past the point of no return, literally. As Christine slipped the ring in her finger and journeyed out into the water, she kissed the Phantom. Twice. He let her go, and they left while he sat in silence as she came back one more time to give him back the ring. She watched devastated for him as Christine left again and he broke down into sobs. She couldn't watch any longer, she went back up stairs to the home she didn't have.

As Meg led the mob toward the underground fortress that housed the Phantom, she contemplated what this meant for her. If she led them to him and caught him, finally she would have something to her name other than "Ballerina Brat" or "That Giry woman's headstrong child" she would be "Meg the woman who led the mob to capturing her best friend's obsessor". Running ahead before the mob, she hoped to find him a little before everyone else, add a little more credit to her name. She never usually acted like this, so selfish, she was a quiet little ballerina who stood on the sidelines occasionally opinionated. No one paid her a second glance, she didn't pay anyone else a second glance. She was a wallflower, an unseen, and she was fine with it. Or so she thought.

Entering the grand room, she took her time looking around. She was far ahead of the mob so, she took liberties to explore. Noticing the burnt remains of what looked like wax figures dressed in the costumes for Don Juan, remembering the disaster of what happened, she silently chastised Christine for acting out of impulse. '_Why did you have to pull off his mask? Maybe I would still have a home if you had restrained yourself_.' She loved Christine, like a little sister. But Christine led everyone to believe she was the innocent victim of his mind games but, she threw back everything she got. She unmasked him in public. And as she caught a short glimpse of her huddled over Raoul as they made their escape, she saw that she had deceived both of the men. Sometimes Christine could be very flighty, and Meg didn't appreciate it, having had no suitors while Christine had had so many and she brushed them off without a sideways glance.

She traveled into what seemed to be his bedroom, noting the mannequin of Christine to her left, on the way, and shivering at the similarities. The bed was covered in rich red velvet's and satin, and was carved to what looked like a swan and she caught a flash of white to her left in the room. She looked at the dainty mask for a lingering moment until she heard the approaches of the oncoming mob. Grabbing the mask, she stuffed it in a small satchel, while blindly grabbing for other things scattered in the room. She didn't know what she planned to do with all these belongings but she felt that she needed to grab them.

She needed another way out, so the mob didn't take what she has taken. They were out for blood and would do anything to get it.

She found shards of mirrors everywhere. '_Someone's in for some back luck_.' She thought sardonically, stepping to the last one, she found what seemed to be a whole mirror laying on the floor, along with an empty, forgotten, candelabra. She thought it weird to be a curtain over the one mirror, when all the rest were bare. Deciding to scratch the itch to investigate, she lifted the heavy velvet drape. Staring into the cold, pitch black tunnel, she assumed this was the only way out. Closing the drapery behind her, she set out to find a way through. What she didn't assume was all the intricate twists and turns of the tunnel. They were probably meant to keep people like her out and people like the Phantom in. Following her instincts, and noting the wrong turns she had taken, she had finally gotten to a place where she could hear an activity. It felt like she had searched the tunnel for hours, and now there was a possibility she was finally going to get out and stay in her aunt and uncle's Paris vacation home, where her mother wanted her to, while Madame Giry would stay at the opera house and survey the clean up while our dear managers found the stagehands and chorus girls places to stay. Stopping to slip off her sodden toe shoes, she surveyed the dirt and grime along the wet silk, until she heard a noise. Stopping abruptly, and listening closely, she didn't hear it again. She ventured toward the noise.

Listening closer, and taking a few hesistant steps forward in the tunnel, she heard human activity, but not footsteps. It sounded like sobbing. Stepping closer, the noise became more clear. It most definitely wasn't female. No, the moans of anguish were much to deep to be produced by a female, and the only one she knew of who had been down here other than herself was Christine. Her long adjusted eyes, spotted a white shirt leaned up against the wall, looking even closer she found a man with his face in his hands, elbows on his knees on the ground sobbing like a lost boy. Meg's eyes softened, eyebrows knitting with worry, as she looked upon this man. He really had loved her. He was not a ghost or even a phantom, he was a man who just needed someone to love him. He needed compassion. Not pity. She was going to show him that not everyone was the same. She could be different. She would be like her mother. Take him to the house, show him she could care for him like Christine never could.

When Christine told Meg what had happened, Christine revealed when the Phantom had taken her and talked about them together, all she could see was darkness, secrecy, hiding. When Raoul professed his love, Christine saw happiness, brightness, comfort. This was the complete opposite for her friend. Meg had seen him once when her mother reported to him. She slept in her mother's quarters near the basement of the opera house, she had had a nightmare. He was about ten years older than she. That put him at about eighteen years old at the time, and he was already running the opera house. She had always been secretly fascinated by him, and often left him notes in box five where only he and her mother were granted access. She always asked one of the older chorus girls to write Opera Ghost or Phantom on the envelope so her mother would simply think it was a letter from a strange woman passing through. Many times, they were simply pleas for him to make something interesting happen at rehearsals. Almost always ending in Carlotta stomping out. The last night that she had spent the night in her mother's room, she went back to the dormitories to find a note under her pillow labeled Marguerite in wonderful cursive. Her little cheeks had reddened at the thought of an admirer's note, not registering that the cursive was too developed for it to be a young boy. Tearing open the envelope with her eager hands, she read the note again and again.

_'Marguerite,_

_I appreciate your notes, and please be patient with me as I plan new things to make the opera house more exciting. _

_Also, please do not be frightened of little nightmares, dear child. For I am here, watching over you, you are not alone. Remember that next time._

_O.G.'_

Snapping out of her trance like flash back, she remembered the poor, heartbroken man who sat before her. She cleared her throat softly, as if scared to interrupt him. She heard him sharply inhale and stand, covering the right side of his face. She looked down a moment, as if waiting for him to collect himself. When she finally looked up, his hair was still in disarray, his clothing was sodden, and his eyes still red. He looked at her half-expectantly, half-irritably

"I- "

"Have you come here to tell me something? Or have you come here just to stare at the hideousness?" He asked angrily, ripping his hand from his face. She admitted, she gasped. But not from horror, not from the detestable nature of his condition, just from simply the shock. She may have screamed after Christine had unmasked him but, who else would expect someone to unmasked a man with a facial deformity right one the stage. Not only had Meg never seen him closer than fifteen feet, she had only seen the left half of his face. She had never expected to see him to close and the other side of his face; in one night no less! At her silence he whipped around and stomped toward the exit of the tunnels.

"Wait," She ran after him, placing a hand gently on his right shoulder-blade. "where will you go?" She asked as he whipped around and grabbed her wrist in a death like grip.

"That's none of your concern, Little Giry." He said harshly. She flinched at the pet name and he stalked off yet again. Chasing after him yet again, she stopped him as he was about to exit the tunnels and land behind the opera house, where policemen and firemen still lingered.

"You have nowhere to go, your clothes are wet, you have no mask -"

"Everyone has already looked. No one should be shocked now. I'm even more the talk of the town than I was before. Leave me in peace." He demanded yet still lingered as if waiting for her to fight back.

"At least come with me until things die down." She watched him silently nod, stiffly, but he agreed. "Here." She handed him the satchel with his things. The first thing he pulled out was his heavy cloak, pulling it on, he looked through the rest of the satchel. He brought out his mask and replaced it on his face. Digging around in the bag, a small, yellowed, piece of paper fell to the ground. Rescuing it before it could get damage, Meg brought it to where she could see it and turned it over to reveal it to be the note she left him those so many years ago. Reading it once again, she had been embarrassed for herself to write a complete stranger so abruptly.

_'Dear Phantom,_

_Life in the opera house can be very boring. Could you perhaps play a few of your tricks and make me very happy?_

_I'll be eternally grateful._

_Marguerite Giry.' _

"Mademoiselle," She looked up to find the Phantom staring at her very expectantly. She handed him back the note and he stuffed it nonchalantly back in the satchel. "if you would be so kind as to show me the way to wherever you're taking me, I would be forever grateful." She nodded silently and stepped forward. She held a finger to her lips as she passed him, noticing how he did his best to tame his hair and proceeded to pull the hood up on his cloak. She silently padded out of the tunnel and was met with the chaos of opera staff and firemen everywhere. She kept them along the edge of the wall where they were shadowed enough to make an escape.

Finding the carriage her mother had ordered, she made sure the Phantom got safely inside before letting her mother know of her departure. She entered the carriage, and told the driver the address of her Uncle's vacation home. The ride there was a stifling silence that lingered over the two beings in the carriage. Meg had nothing to say to him, that she could voice at this very moment. The Phantom wished to be left alone but he knew he had made the right decision coming with the ballerina.

"After we arrive at our destination, I will show you to the kitchen, wash room, and your bedroom. You are to make yourself at home there until things die down, and I will not take no for an answer." She told him with a surge of confidence.

"I think you underestimate who you are dealing with, Mademoiselle." He said, leaning dangerously close to her. Who was this little theater brat to tell him what he was to do?

"Meg." Was all she said, he looked at her. "If you are going to be in the same home as me for however long the city remains in uproar, you might as well call me what everyone else does." He nodded. "I don't suppose you have your own name? Or am I supposed to call you Phantom for the rest of the time being?" He sat staring blankly out the window as if he hadn't heard her. She looked straight ahead of her with determination written on her face.

Finally they arrived at the house and she exited the carriage, but didn't wait to see if the Phantom had followed her, for she already knew he had nowhere else to go. Entering the spacious house, she looked forward through the narrow, long, hallway into the kitchen. To her left was the drawing-room, next to which was the dining room; which also connected to the kitchen. To her right was another living area just past the staircase. Up the staircase, and slightly to the right was the washroom, to the left there were six bedrooms and one more sitting room at the very end of the hall. Meg left the master bedroom untouched, and led the Phantom to the last room of the hallway. She turned down his bed for him, and set his satchel in the closet, and put his cloak on a hook in the wall next to the door. She took the room two doors down, deciding not to be so close, for everyone's comfort. He said not one word to her for the rest of the night.

'If that's the way it's going to be, so be it.'

* * *

**A/N: **Hey all, I found this little story on my iPod, apparently I had written it a few years ago and it sat in my e-mail until I dug it up a couple weeks ago, where I have been reading a revising where I can. It's finished so, if it gets good/enough feedback, I'm interested in expanding and posting the rest of the chapters.

At this point, I'm trying to tie up all loose ends with my writings, trying to get everything that's unfinished finished and so forth so I can maybe move on and mature in my writing.

This might be a little OOC, rushed, too fluffy, very romantical for everyone, but I thought, why the heck not, to posting it. I'm a _huge _E/M fan, it's kind of a guilty pleasure ship.

So, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

_Good? Bad? Lemme know!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

The Phantom brooded in his room for the next few days, coming out a few times to use the washroom. He would only accept a meal if Meg brought it and left it outside the door. She was not his maid, and he treated her like a child. She had left him alone at first because he needed space, Christine had just betrayed him, and honestly what would they have done if he had come out to see her. Most of the time, she stood in the living room, practicing her ballet so she wouldn't be out of shape for whenever she would dance again.

Finally being fed up with being ignored, she knocked on his door, dinner in hand. She was not going to take no for an answer again.

"Leave it." He told her, as if she were a dog. She knocked again and got no reply. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and saw him sitting at the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees. "Did I not tell you to leave it, Meg? Do you not understand? Must I spell it out for you?"

"Enough, Monsieur. You cannot keep treating me like a child -"

"If you did not act like one, I would not have to punish you like one."

"I'm not a wide-eyed little girl, hiding under my mother's skirts, afraid of nightmares anymore, Monsieur, of that I assure you!" She replied haughtily. "And as for my name; it is Marguerite. Only friends and family may call me Meg, and you sir, have not earned either title. Now, you will have your supper and then you will come downstairs into the drawing-room and talk to someone other than yourself!"

"You dare order me around?"

"Admit it, Monsieur, Christine is gone! I admit her a fool for choosing Raoul but there's no turning back time; no changing her decision. It is time to move on."

"Do not mention her or even his name to me. Who do you think you are? You're nothing but a ballet brat who hides under false pretenses of being a quiet angel. You are a rude young lady with no sense of propriety. For Heaven's sake, you act like a defiant child. Now put the tray on the dresser and leave me be. You're not one who can push me around." He declared angrily. He saw a spark of anger in her eyes; but then they softened and she felt chastised like a father would his daughter who had defied him.

"As you wish." She said quietly as she curtsied a small bit, and set the tray down, taking her leave back downstairs. He had to admit she was not a child any longer, no, although he did see her like that very often. She had grown into a lovely young woman with astounding talent. Even her singing was not a terrible feature. She was headstrong and opinionated, standing up to him, he would have applauded her if it were to anyone else but him. He had felt remorse about calling her such names but he was just angry, and hurt. He really loved Christine and he thought she might have loved him back. Until Raoul came back. Then everything crumbled. That was another thing, what did Me- Marguerite mean when she said she thought Christine a fool for choosing Raoul? Had she really held him on that high of a pedestal that she thought her own best friend a fool? He pushed the food around his plate as he silently pondered these things.

As he finally finished, he decided he might as well go downstairs to please the little Giry. She had gone to such lengths to keep him secure from the harm of mob; which he was still utterly confused about. What had caused her to act out such compassion? Did she really trust him enough to stay in a house alone with him for however long that may be, without expecting something bad to happen to her? He remembered the drive here from the opera house, she had asked his name. . .Not even Christine had known his name. No one had known of his name for a very long time, he'd figured he'd forgotten it. A name given to him by a mother who didn't want him and kept him out of pity, who would want to keep a name like that?

Making his way down the stairs, he heard the soft counts of her routines in the drawing-room, and her the soft thud of her feet on the carpet as she finished her leaps and turns. As he entered, she had finished with a Chaines turn, and looked up, only to be startled by him. She fell back and could not gain her balance before clattering to the floor like a wobbly chair. He could not help to conceal the smirk that showed on his face, and he saw as her eyebrows knitted together in anger -or embarrassment, he couldn't determine which.

"Do forgive me, I did not mean to disturb you." He bowed slightly, letting her compose herself.

"Not at all. I wasn't expecting you to be finished with your brooding so soon."

"A certain, child helped me along." He watched a nerve in her cheek jerk and pretty little mouth contort into a frown. "Such pretty faces should not be stricken by frowns."

"You flatter me, sir, but my face would not be stricken with frowns if a certain man was not here, making them." She challenged.

"Perhaps I should return to my room, and leave you to yourself, then?" He retorted. If silly banter was all that was ever going to come out of a conversation with her, he wasn't sure how he was going to survive the long period of time he anticipated staying here.

"Please, stay," She said, following him out of the doorway. "I do not want to bicker. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I know this must be hard on you."

"What could you know of it?" He asked softly, but accusingly.

"I have known of other things outside of the opera house." She said finally, crossing her arms on her chest.

"I apologize if I have offended you, Mademoiselle." He said quietly. "I suppose I never got to mention how thankful I am that you snuck me out of there, although I won't pretend to know what possessed you to do such a thing."

"You were trapped in a corner, I knew it was right to help you out of it. I just wanted to let you know that people are different, we all don't hate you. I don't hate you. I wanted to show you compassion and care after what had happened. Despite what you want people to think, you are a man. And men have feelings as well as any woman." She laid a hand gently on his arm, and taking it away just as quickly, even though he had to admit he liked the warmth. And before he knew it, she was halfway up the stairs and he was still standing in the doorway.

As Meg took one more look to find him, still in his white ruffled shirt -halfway open- and black riding pants, she sighed a great sigh in contentment; she achieved what she set out to achieve. She showed him that not everyone was appalled by his appearance, that she did not judge him by his looks alone. Even though he had replaced the mask onto his face, she had still seen it -if not vaguely- in the tunnels and she thought it made him devastatingly beautiful. He would not be the man he was today if society had not shunned him like they had. He would not be the tragic Phantom of the Opera. He would've just been a man. She hated herself for thinking like that but she more than likely would have never met him if he hadn't been a gypsy and her mother had not rescued him. She did realize soon enough after entering the basement of the opera house that that was his home too, and he was going to lose it. That is what really stoked the fires of her wanting revenge. He was losing the only stable environment he had ever known, so she brought him here.

_'If only he didn't treat me like a child.' _She thought to herself, entering her bedroom. The spacious room, with a blue floral wall print and crème colored carpet, had been her cousin, Cecile's, room. The four-poster bed was in the middle of the wall straight ahead as she entered the door, to the left was a bay window with a seat, and to the right was a whole wall full of books. Cecile loved her books, particularly romance novels so, the first three days where Meg had had nothing else to do, poured over the books. And although she was not a fan of romance, she imagined herself in the role of the woman, much to her embarrassment. The man though, was always left blank. It was like there was an ink smudge over the man's face, but she did imagine him with a deep velvety voice, the words rolling off his tongue with his English accent. _'Almost like the man two doors down.'_ She shook her head rapidly, she expelled the thought from her mind. This really was not what she wanted to be thinking now.

* * *

Snapping out of his trance like state, he cursed himself for getting lost in the silly words of a girl ten years his junior. The world was all the same. No one would show him compassion, just pity. He didn't want their pity. Pity did not alleviate the hurt of ones emotions. Only pressed on them more, reminded one of what horrible things were happening. His need for compassion was almost to late, then why did he come with her when she offered him safekeeping from the opera house? He knew he would be torn to bits by angry people who had lost their homes. They did not take into account that was his home too. He supposed that's what set her apart from the rest of them. She knew that she wasn't the only one who had lost a home.

He thought back to how she saw him, crumpled on the floor, like a weakling. Crying over a woman who never truly loved him. As he pondered this he stomped back to his room. Christine had betrayed him. What did a little ballerina know of what happened? She merely knew he loved Christine, and Christine chose that fop in the end. Well, there was no time to dwell on the past. He now another another little problem, a certain little blond creature who seemed to care for him a great deal. He thought it odd, he had looked over Christine all her life and eventually came to love her, and yet, he'd known the little blond friend who entire life, even acquiesced her by playing pranks on the opera staff at her request, he had watched her brown eyes shine when a simple request was filled. He watched her chubby cheeks blush when she found his note that night in the dormitories. Yet, he had never really noticed her. He did not watch her grow up as he had Christine, she was simply the best friend. The forgotten one, like him. Anyone who had ever known him had forgotten him, for he disappeared from society years ago. Erik Destler was long gone, and the Phantom of the Opera was his identity. He doubted there was any hope of him coming back now. He could not even tell the one who had saved him from being, quite possibly, killed his own name.

He had meant to ask why she held her friend as a fool for choosing Raoul over him. He had nothing to offer Christine except love and his music. Raoul had everything to give her. A carefree existence, a home, money, music, and anything she'd ever desired. As far as everyone was concerned, Raoul was always to be the best choice.

* * *

Back at the opera house, Madame Giry surveyed the removal of rubble with a cloudy head. She trusted Erik not to do anything with Meg there, but she did not trust her own daughter. Too long, had she watched her daughter be the forgotten one, one everyone simply cast aside. And now she had the full attention, of a male no less. She had already guessed that Meg went down to the bowels of the opera house, and had seen a male, towering over her, following her out of the tunnels. She was not sure what was to come out of a situation like this, but she was not about to stop it. Phantom or not, Erik was a fairly decent person, simply in need of compassion and care. Should anything result of their predicament, she was not going to stop it. They would both, in time, find one another and give each other the love they both so desperately needed. Of that, Madame Giry was sure.

* * *

Later, Meg came downstairs, being unable to sleep, and started to boil some water to make a cup of tea. She could not bring herself to admit feeling anything for the Phantom, yet she knew in her heart she was in denial about it. But she would not set herself up for rejection. He wanted Christine, they always wanted Christine. She watched for years as people commented about Christine whether it be her relation to Gustav Daae or how utterly stunning she was, they always wanted Christine. Meg had spent her whole life surrounded by people, and yet she felt completely and utterly alone. If she were to be pushed out into society on her own, she would know of no one. She would be no one. She would have nowhere to go.

After finishing her tea and cleaning out her cup, she laid in her bed, and wept. She had no one.

Down the hall, a man sat awake in his bed, listening to the quiet sobs of a woman that had nothing to cry about. The thought of such a normally carefree little creature so stricken by sadness was enough to pull at the heart-strings of his cobweb laden heart.

Later, both sat awake listening to the stillness of the night stretch on for hours and hours

* * *

**A/n: **Hey all! I didn't get much feedback but what I did it was positive so I decided to add the next chapter to get the ball rolling a bit.

I do have a question for you all, on fanfiction my story is called A Phantom's Legacy but in my first chapter and as I wrote it on my iPod it was under the name Confessions Of A Wallflower. I was just wondering if you guys could give me some feedback on what you would prefer it be called!

Now for anon review reply(ies)

_newbornphanatic: _Thanks for your review (and also being the first review and also being so encouraging) It really means a lot and I hope you're around for the new update!

**Good? Bad? Lemme know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

* * *

The Vicomte entered his fiancé's bedroom and watched her as her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she stared blankly out the window. It was now a week since that fateful night that solidified their relationship. He had given Christine her space to recover and now it seemed they were more distanced than when she had been taken from him.

"Christine, my love, whatever is the matter? Are you not happy to be out of that monster's grip?" He asked softly, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"No, it's not that I just wish I hadn't done it so cruelly. I wish there had been another way." She sniffled, wiping her nose with the handkerchief Raoul offered her. "I need to make sure Meg is okay, I have not seen her since before the performance and I left without a second thought. I left the opera house, with the prospect of a home without a second thought that she had spent her whole life in the opera house. I just left her Raoul."

"Very well, we will take you back, as soon as the carriage gets here we will visit the Opera Populaire to see if anyone's seen her." He watched as she silently nodded and left to clean herself up.

* * *

Madame Giry watched as the de Chagny carriage pulled into view of the opera house. The rubble had soon been cleared away and now plans for the repairs had been laid out, and they were now starting. Christine and Raoul had been absent since the performance, many heard rumors that they had eloped and moved into the country but as she sees them now, she knew they had not married. Married couples glow for the first year, Christine was pale and Raoul looked like he had not slept since the incident. Greeting Christine with a hug, she asked how they had been.

"Just fine, we came to see about Meg."

"I regret to inform you she's staying at a family's home until she is able to return to the dormitories. I must refrain from telling anyone where for her own safety, I'm sure you will understand."

"Of course. As long as she's safe." Christine watched as Raoul went over to greet the managers and to overlook the plans. "You haven't seen. . .him around lately, have you, Madame Giry?" Christine asked nervously.

"No, I have not seen him since the performance." She lied, she knew Christine wished to see him, perhaps to apologize for something. But, he could not see her now, it would only reopen wounds. "I think he fled the city." Christine nodded silently and went back over to her fiancé.

* * *

Meg woke up, mid morning, to the sound of beautiful music coming from the living area, where the piano resided. It was something original, she assumed. For she did not recognize the melody emitting from the keys.

She slipped on the costume she wore the night of Christine's first performance -one of the few outfits she had saved from the dormitories- and slipped downstairs in her pointe shoes -the only shoes she managed to save. She noticed as she put them on that the soft satin was beginning to fray. She needed new pointe shoes. She wanted the black ones, something was always so sensual, so elegant about black satin pointe shoes, yet her mother never approved of them. Not neutral enough for everyday ballet, her mother had always said. Well, she was going to get black pointe shoes when she got some extra money.

As she tiptoed into the room, she found the Phantom playing the keys elegantly, swaying back and for to the rhythm of the music that spilled from his fingertips. She started stretching, happy to have something to finally dance to. She had not practiced to music for a very long time.

Erik watched as she started practicing her ballet from the baby grand piano in the back left corner of the living area. Her ballet skills easily surpassed almost every dancer at the opera house, and he wondered why she was not prima ballerina. She had been studying at the opera house long before a lot of the other girls. She by far had the most experience. He was astounded by the grace and poise of every turn and leap. He saw the joy in her face as she danced, it was truly her passion. He felt perfectly content accompanying her with music, an original piece, no less.

The piece ended, and he quickly moved to another that he knew by heart. He played music for her until his fingers were sore and cramped, she never wanted to stop dancing. He glanced at her pointe shoes and noticed they were a bit raggy. He also noticed her in the costume she wore at Christine's first performance, she obviously lost everything in the fire. The fire he started. He abruptly stopped playing. Her movements stopped as if sensing something wrong.

She watched as he sat the piano, fingers still, and his eyebrows knitted in thought.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to her, though he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

"Pardon?"

"I didn't mean to destroy everything you ever knew. I didn't mean to set your house on fire. I acted like a fool." Her eyes softened in sympathy and she approached the piano. Her small hand looked even smaller over his large one, and he finally made eye contact with her. Things had been less tense over the past few days.

"It was your home too. Do not feel so bad. Everything I ever loved is replaceable. You were just blinded by the love you felt, everyone has a weakness." He nodded and she left to start their lunch. He would dine with her today, he declared to himself. She was so generous to him, so compassionate. She didn't mention Christine for the entire time since that night, she did not blame him for the fire, destroying everything she owned.

The thing that affected him, she told him everything she loved was replaceable. She truly was alone in the world. She was much like him. Even with a near perfect beauty and astounding talent, she was alone in the world. He was not the only one. He remembered telling her she was not alone in his note, those many years ago. He never actually registered that perhaps she was. But he was too. Were they, two lonely people, brought together for a reason? She had always treated him like a normal man, even when she was just a child. When she encountered him in the tunnels, her gasp was not of horror or disgust, merely surprise. He had seen it in her face. Maybe she was put in his life for a reason? Or maybe someone was just playing a cruel trick on him. He could not open his heart so easily again. It was not possible at this moment in time.

"Why did you really come for me that night, Marguerite?" Meg looked up from finishing the meal to meet the grey-green eyes that had always captured her. They were like windows into the soul, and she peered right through.

"I wanted to show you that I wanted to help you. That you weren't alone." Was all she said before taking the plates to the small breakfast table in the corner of the room.

* * *

"Raoul, I know Madame Giry said she cannot give me the address of where Meg's staying but, I'm sure you could find it out?" Christine asked desperately, a few days after visiting the opera house.

"Of course, love, I shall do my best." Raoul said, setting out to find any other Giry's that lived in the Paris area. He would do anything to make Christine happy again. She had been so depressed since everything had happened, if he had not known better he would have guessed she was in love with the Phantom as well. Banishing the silly thought from his head, he got into the carriage to find someone who might know of anyone with the name Giry.

* * *

"She pitied you." Meg said quietly, cleaning up after a rather peaceful lunch. The Phantom looked up menacingly. "Where you think she loved you, she pitied you. She made you believe she harbored feelings for you, and I feel like I should explain for her." he nodded silently. This was the first time she had been brought up in conversation for almost two weeks.

"If you are telling me this, to try and tell me that you are not the same, why did you come after me in the tunnel? You must have felt some form of pity for me to try and rescue me."

"I believe everyone feels pity for people at one time or another, it's simply a natural emotion. I did feel pity for you, but not as much as I didn't want you feeling like I have my whole life any longer, Monsieur."

"And what do you feel like, mademoiselle?"

"I am a wallflower, I am unseen. People do not notice me, the night I sent you my first note, I slept in my mother's quarters and watched from the doorway as you two spoke, I assume you did not see me. And the night you came to the New Years masquerade, did you even see me sitting on the stairs, directly behind Carlotta? Not even asked by one gentleman to dance. Even the night of the fire I stood behind the gate that led to your fortress and you did not even give me a sideways glance. I am just simply not noticed. I do not mind, most of the time. It gets me out of a lot of things. But when you're a young woman, ready to begin a family, it does get a bit bothersome."

"Let me assure you of one thing, you under-estimate my vision to see all things around me. While you may not have been my center of focus, you had not gone unnoticed. I watched you transform from a short, petite fairy of a child into a graceful young woman with phenomenal talent. Please tell me why you are crying, dreadful woman?" He asked, uncomfortable with her tears, fearing he had done something wrong.

"No one has ever said anything like that to me. No one has ever told me they thought I was a graceful young woman or had phenomenal talent. I am usually told that I am a headstrong child with a sharp tongue, too sharp for a lady." she sniffled, laughing at her own ludicrousness.

"I'll admit, Marguerite, that I find your quick wit charming and refreshing. Although not when it is aimed at myself." He chuckled. She wiped her eyes quickly and catching him completely by surprise by throwing her arms around his midsection and hugging him. So new to physical affection, he was unsure of what to do.

"Thank you; for being so kind to me. And please, call me Meg. I think you have earned yourself the title of friend."

"I believe I should be thanking you, for putting up with myself for two weeks now." He chuckled. "I wish you would not change your mind on what to call you so much, frustrating woman."

_break_

Later that night Meg, was drifting off to sleep pondering the events of the day. Finally her and the Phantom had not bickered back and forth, and she finally confronted what she thought of herself. And now she knew that he did not think the same. He had noticed her, and if he had surely others had. She would not waste anymore of her time pitying herself. She would cherish the moments she had with the one person who told her he cared.

Down the hall, the Phantom lounged in his bed, hoping that today would be an eye opener for the little Giry. He also hoped he would trust her enough to reveal things about himself that he hadn't before. He just couldn't bring himself to trust another so easily. 'It will come soon enough, I suppose.'

Both figures fell asleep, contended.

* * *

**A/n: Hello readers! Well...Here's chapter 3, I got some feedback for chapter 2 and I am ecstatic! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/followed, I really appreciate it!**

**Anon reviews:**

**newbronphanatic: **Thanks for the update! I think I'm gonna leave to title for now, the story does kind of revolve around his legacy so we'll see! Thanks for answering!

**Guest: **Thank you so much! As it is with many writers, I was really worried about capturing Meg in a way that was explaining her character while keeping her in that which ALW and Gaston Leroux gave us (which wasn't much) so I'm very grateful to hear that I'm capturing her right! It's very encouraging

**Tierney: **Thank you for the review! It's very encouraging to hear such nice things.

**Thanks everyone again for reviewing and reading, I hope you're all around for this update!**

**Good? Bad? Lemme know!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

It had been two weeks since that day, and Meg and the Phantom had spent them in comfortable routine with each other. The Phantom would wake up early, maybe take a walk, and then sit to play the piano. Meg would come down, do her stretches, dance, and they would eat lunch together. The would each go about doing different things, Meg normally keeping things nice in case her aunt and uncle decided to come visit, and washing clothes so they didn't run out. The Phantom however, spent his time exploring the land in front and behind the house. The house itself was a mock-Colonial style on a slight incline behind a dense forest, behind the ground was a path leading to a small gazebo and more forest lands. The Phantom had spent almost every day for the month he'd been there, exploring the forests.

On this particular day, Meg was cleaning the dishes and the Phantom called her 'an insufferable woman' and Meg had retorted by splashing him with the water, which resulted in him relentlessly tickling her until her face about ready to turn blue. The were interrupted by a particular loud pounding on the front door. Meg had first thought that her aunt and uncle had returned but, they wouldn't have knocked at their own home. Both movements and laughter had stopped and they stood dumbfounded staring at the door.

* * *

It had taken a couple of weeks but finally, Raoul had a private investigator find people with the name Giry that lived in the Paris area, Raoul was not sure of they were any relation at all or if this was where Meg was staying but it was worth a try. He brought Christine along, much to his dismay, he did not want her to be disappointed if Meg really wasn't here.

He heard noises coming from inside and decided to knock loudly to make sure they heard him. He heard the noises cease, and waited a few moments for knocking again.

* * *

As the stranger knocked again, Meg finally started moving toward the door. The Phantom stayed behind, just in case and watched curiously as Meg opened the door.

He heard the sharp intake of breath, and finally the unmistakable voice yell: "Meg!" as Meg stood at the door dumbly. He couldn't believe after a little over a month, just when he thought he was getting over what happened, Christine and that fop showed up where he was staying. He watched, almost in a trance-like state as Raoul and Christine barged into the home and started to interrogate Meg.

"What have you been doing all this time, Meg?" Meg was at a loss for words of what to say. Honestly, she couldn't just tell them she has been living with the Phantom and, quite frankly, getting know him for the past month. She looked around nervously to see where the Phantom had actually gone. Which of course, caused Christine to look to see what Meg was looking for. That was when she saw him, and Christine thought it was a horrible nightmare. She grabbed Meg's arm and dragged her to the door.

"What is he doing in your home!" Christine couldn't believe after all this time, this is who she was seeing. "Everyone thought he fled the country!"

"He's been staying here, actually." Meg answered, quite irritably. Christine had not taken the time to get to know the Phantom like she had.

"What were you thinking Meg? He killed many people!" Raoul interjected. "He tried to kill me! He tried to trick Christine!"

"He's different! Yes he has a temper but who doesn't? He was so blinded by his love for Christine that he did not realize what he was doing." Meg defended him defiantly.

"Do not defend this monster!" Raoul hollered.

"Christine tricked him, how could I not defend him!" Meg yelled, and soon after regretting her decision. All of them looked at her mutely. "Christine led him on to believe she actually cared about him when she only felt pity for him! She felt nothing and yet she let him carry on with his fantasies, he thought she loved him!" She finally confessed.

"Oh dear Meg, you're under his spell. I once was too. Come along; we're getting you out of here." Christine said condescendingly, taking Meg by the hand and leading her out of the house.

"I do not want to go, I am very content!" Meg struggled but Christine's grip was firm. Finally Meg broke away an ran back to the threshold of the house. "Christine, I considered you a sister to me but, I cannot overlook how much hurt you've caused this man. If this must be goodbye, so be it. I will continue to defend him." Christine nodded solemnly, not saying a word, and let Raoul lead her to their carriage and they drove away. "I love him..." She whispered to no one in particular as the carriage drove down the lane.

Meg sighed dejectedly and walked into the house. It was unusually silent when she walked in and she no longer saw the Phantom in the kitchen. Walking through the kitchen into the dining room, and then into the drawing-room he was nowhere to be found on the first floor. Deciding not to worry, she went upstairs to look, but she didn't see him. She decided he must have gone for a walk to clear his head, she understood, it must be hard for him to see Christine.

Why had Christine and Raoul suddenly showed up? They had obviously not known, prior to coming there, that she was staying with the Phantom. But there was another reason for their visit, and how had they known? Meg never mentioned the home to Christine, her and Raoul were long gone by the time her mother had told Meg that was where she was staying.

* * *

They had taken Meg out the door. She didn't resist. The pain Erik felt in his heart was almost too much to bear. No, he had not loved the little ballerina but, he had thought they were becoming close friends. He quickly wrote out a letter, telling her that he was leaving and left his bank account number so she could live. He didn't need the money. He'd never needed it. He snuck out the back door and out through the woods. He did not know where he was going, but he knew he could not stay there in that house, and he could not go back to the opera house.

He wandered aimlessly through the woods until he finally came about a small town just outside the border of Paris.

"Daddy, why does that man wear a mask?" a young child asked pointing at Erik.

"I don't know, Jacob but it's rude to stare." The man said, meeting Erik's gaze. "You're not from around here are you? I'm Daniel."

"Matthew," Erik lied quickly, if he couldn't trust Meg with his name how could he trust a complete stranger? "I was just passing through."

"Its getting late, do you have anywhere to stay tonight, Monsieur?" Erik shook his head. "Please, stay with us."

"But how do you know you can trust me?" Erik asked curiously. This man knew nothing of his past.

"You have an honest face." He replied, turning and motioning for Erik to follow. He led him deeper into the town and noticed people did not stop and stare at his face as they did in Paris. They merely smiled and nodded in acknowledgement when he passed by.

"I must say, I do not have a very kind past." Erik mentioned as they made their way to Daniel and Jacob's home.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Matthew, it is by the grace of God that we are forgiven of them." Erik did not say nother word for the rest of the journey.

Daniel led him to the back of the small town to an equally small country house with a carriage house. Erik looked at the property appreciatively and was thrilled to have somewhere to stay.

"The carriage house is where guests stay, it's private but still close to the house. It has a bedroom, a washroom and a small living area you're welcome to make yourself at home."

"I will be forever indebted to you, sir."

"Not to worry, the townspeople call my home the Welcome House, guests from all over stay with us. But, I do see that you are without a bag. I'll see about finding you some extra clothing." Erik nodded and said thanks again before entering the carriage house. It had been remodeled to accommodate the needs of guests. As he said, there was a small washroom attached to the living area and down a small hallway there was the spacious bedroom. He plopped down on the bed after taking off his boots and removing his mask, placing it on the bedside table.

He sighed sadly and though of the blond girl who was not waiting for him to come back. Maybe he did care for her. But it was too late now. By now she was with Christine and Raoul at their home, probably meeting plenty of other suitors. Why would she miss someone like him? He was a brooding old man who held too tightly onto his past.

* * *

"Raoul, I'm going back in a few days." Christine informed her fiancé that night.

"Whatever for, Christine? You hear her yourself that friends or not, she was going to defend that monster. We must call the police and let them know where he is staying!" Raoul asked, he was thoroughly confused as to why Christine would want to go back there.

"I saw him leaving into the woods after we started driving away. She's going to be alone. I cannot leave her like that. I'm going to bring her back here and have her come to our ball next week, possibly find her a suitor. Someone who can actually make her happy." She explained. Meg was her oldest friend, and she couldn't sit and watch as Meg was left alone by someone Meg thought cared about her. Meg was inexperienced when it came to these sort of things, no one had shown an interest in Meg. Christine was going to find a nice man who would care for her and love her like she needed to be loved, Christine was sure of it.

* * *

The sun was just below the horizon, and Meg still hadn't seen a sign of the Phantom. She was starting to get a bit worried. What if he had found his way back to town and was mobbed? What if he got lost in the woods and couldn't find his way back? She impatiently shifted in her chair and ignored the sting of the needle that pricked her hand. She had put a pile of her and the Phantom's clothes that needed to be repaired. She had neglected the pile until now, when she had nothing better to do. She was not a great seamstress and had almost no patience for this sort of task but she wanted to wait for the Phantom and give him an earful of how much she was worried.

Finally, when the clock mentioned that three thirty was the time, Meg decided to drag herself upstairs. She hadn't fixed any dinner, she finished the clothes long ago, and had spent an hour trying to read the same page of a book. She was beside herself with worry. The Phantom always explored but never this late. He was always back in time to have a small informal dinner, and then they would sit and talk about anything and everything. Or rather, she would sit and talk. The Phantom never really shared anything about himself and when he did, Meg made sure she was all ears, for she knew no one else knew these things about him.

She placed her hand on her bedroom door, and looked down the hall to his room. He had left his door open. She remembered it was ajar when she was searching for him. He never left his door open, not even when he was late for their morning practices and in a hurry. Moving down to his bedroom, she saw his clothes were in disarray and his bedroom was a mess. It was normally kept clean and tidy. She went back down to her room and saw a white piece of paper she hadn't noticed when she was busy looking for him. She felt the tears sting her eyes as she read its contents. He thought she had left with Christine. So he left. He left her his bank account number to access whenever she needed. He told her to buy that black pair of toe shoes she had always wanted. He told her to buy lovely dresses to catch even more eyes than she already did.

She cried herself to sleep that night. And the night after that. And the night after that. And the night after that.

* * *

**A/n: **I'm back! Sorry it took so long to get out, I've been super swamped with work lately and just been too tired to get on my computer. (Literally this is the first time I've turned it on since I uploaded last)

So, I'm sure I had a laundry list of things to say about this chapter but I've forgotten them all. I hope you enjoyed!

Anonymous Review Replies:

**Newbornphanatic: **I mean Meg is pretty much an angel so of course she uses her innocence to manipulate the game! hahahaha. Thanks again for being a fiathful reviewer and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

**Good? Bad? Lemme know!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Erik did not leave his room for a week. Daniel's wife was nice enough to bring him his meals each and every day but he refused to leave that room. The absence of their daily routine was stifling. He missed waking up to see her stretching in the drawing-room, her eyes bright and lively. He missed the way she perked up and made sure to listen every time he revealed something of his past. He missed the way that even when she was doing work, she had a smile on her face and not a care in the world.

He still refused to admit that he was in love with Meg but he would admit that he cared for her, and would he have remained in the house any longer he would have fallen for her. Which is another reason that fueled him to leave, even if Meg had come back he could not let himself fall for another woman. He was still recovering from Christine's rejection and he wouldn't set himself up for one from Meg. He anticipated that if he were rejected by Meg, it would have been even more catastrophic than that from Christine. He had taken the time to get to know Meg, they molded their schedules to each other, learned how to live together without really making a relationship out of it. He could not bear the thought of telling Meg he loved her and her not feeling the same.

And why would she feel the same? He could not even trust her with his name. He couldn't even trust her with his face. She had seen dark visions and short glimpses of his face, she had not stared at it for a long time. He couldn't see her being comfortable with his mask being off all the time. How could someone get used to that?

* * *

The food Meg made tasted bland, all the same. Nothing was the same ever since he left. She had admitted to herself just that morning that he left that she was in love with him. The way their schedules were fit to each other, she had felt no need to return to society, she was perfectly content in the house with him and now he was gone. Her stretches and routines were not the same since there was no accompaniment. She missed spilling anything that came into her head out of her mouth and having him sit and listen.

She had realized that it would've taken time for him to get over Christine, and she had been willing to wait. Ten year age difference or not. She had grown to appreciate the way he went about things, meticulously planning every move os it worked to his advantage, especially with his music. Each note fit together so perfectly, it flowed as if it were nothing to move his fingers over the keys, never missing a note.

She didn't even mind the mask. She would've preferred it if he had trusted her enough to take it off. But, again, she realized it would take time for trust to register with him, he was abandoned by everyone he had ever trusted and now someone was so willing to trust him she could see where he would be hesitant. The times when she had seen his face without the mask, she had not been appalled or disgusted. She felt shocked. She had felt the pull to touch it, to study it, she wanted to know more about it. She accepted it.

And now she was in Christine and Raoul's home, being dressed up against her will for a ball they were having to officially announce the engagement to the public. The powder blue dress she wore accentuated her curves perfectly, and the scooping neck framed her ample bosom. The long and billowy skirt concealed the pink toe shoes she wore, she had not gone out to get any other clothes yet. Adding on a few pieces of jewelry and fixing one of her loose curls, she exited the bedroom where she was staying and descended down the staircase.

Raoul and Christine's home was gigantic. The foyer alone was the size of the first level of her aunt and uncle's house, and the ballroom at the back of the house was double the foyer. She took the left staircase, avoiding the group of people taking a tour of the grand house off the right staircase. She adjusted the bodice, failing to make her breathe any better, and entered the grand ballroom. Everything was decorated and lit up, and Meg would have thought it was marvelous if it were any other time. She still held on the little hope that she would find the Phantom again and they would pretend like nothing was wrong but in the back of her mind, she knew it wasn't going to happen. She sighed sadly and approached the drink table, grabbing a champagne flute.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but notice, you're not Meg Giry from the corps de ballet at the Opera Populaire are you?" A young gentleman asked Meg, she nodded her head silently. "Forgive me if I seem forward, but I've been wanting to meet you for a very long time. I'm Isaac Clause."

"I'm very pleased to meet you." She plastered on a smile and held out her hand. He kissed her knuckles lightly.

"I wanted to meet you mostly to tell you how talented I think you are. To be honest, I only went to the performances for the ballet. I'm fascinated by the grace and fluidness of the movements."

"I'm flattered, Monsieur Clause. We work very hard to perfect our ballet."

"Please, call me Isaac. And I'm sure, but you make it seem so effortless."

"You flatter me, Isaac," She blushed. She had to admit, she was flattered. He was a very handsome man, nearly a head taller than her, cloudy day gray eyes, and petite features with dark hair, and a little stubble on his cheeks. He reminded her a little of the Phantom although, the Phantom stood about one and a half heads over her, and his eyes were a grey-green that transfixed her.

Meg and Isaac spent most of the rest of the night together, dancing and talking, Meg had no one else to talk to, and she didn't want to seem unsocial so, she stayed around Isaac. She caught Christine and Raoul's approving looks often but she promptly ignored them.

"Unfortunately, I must take my leave but if you would be so kind as to grant me permission of calling on you again,"

"Of course. I'm staying here with Christine and Raoul. I had a very lovely night, thank you." She smiled, he took her hand brushed his lips against her knuckles again and left.

Meg was in denial about the fact that she had enjoyed herself with Isaac. And she was attracted to him in the slightest bit. But she was not ready to just move on like that, she still loved the Phantom, and had not come to the terms that she would never see him ever again. Tears brimmed in her eyes again as she thought about it. She couldn't bear to think that she'd never see him again. Things had been going so well at the house and then Christine and Raoul showed up. Raoul had met with the police commisionary and He, Christine, and the managers decided not to press charges against him, thankfully. She asked the maid to help her out of her dress and corset, put on her nightie and climbed into her big bed. This was simply not comforting like sleeping in her uncle's house was. Something about that home was cozy and familiar. She hated dwelling in her own self pity so much, feeling so bad for herself but she couldn't suppress the emotions any longer like she had been all her life. She had finally found someone she was comfortable with, who she could see herself spending the rest of her life with, and now he was gone.

She went to bed that night, with the hope that Isaac could be the stepping stone she needed to get past all of her turmoil.

The next day, Isaac called on her again, taking her out into the city of Paris

* * *

Every day, Erik missed her more. He finally left his room, and ventured into the town to see what was there to offer. He found out he was staying in Pantin, France, a city just outside of Paris. There was a small chapel near Daniel's house, and next to it was a small restaurant. Down the road there was a bar and a wide variety of shops for the women and men alike. It was a small town with everything someone wanted to do in the middle and homes scattered along the edge of the town behind dense forests. The homes were small, but made for families. It was a quaint place and Erik felt comfortable.

He appreciated how people weren't so hung up on looks in this town like they were in the big cities; like in Paris. That day when he went out, everyone bade him a 'good morning' and smiled, albeit nervously, but smiling nonetheless. They did not sneer an reject him. He still felt like hiding but it wasn't a burning urge like it had been before. They reminded him of Meg. So tolerant of his deformed face, as if they didn't notice it at all. She always looked at him the same way she looked at everyone else and he wondered how. Even his mother detested him and couldn't love him, how could a complete stranger be nicer than his mother had his whole life?

As he pondered this, he kept walking but eventually bumped into something. . . Or rather, someone.

"Oh, hi Matthew." Jacob greeted him cheerfully. "I've been meaning to ask you why you wear that mask, but dad won't let me. He says I should leave you alone. He says you seem sad."

"I suppose I have been a little sad. You see Jacob, what's under my mask, is not very nice to look at, that's why I keep it covered."

"Oh." Jacob said, his mouth firming a perfect 'o' shape. "My legs are like that. See," he lifted his pant leg to reveal bruises and white marks all up and down the shins. "the tops are like that too. Sometimes my belly gets bruised too. My mom likes me to wear long pants so kids don't look at it."

Erik was astounded, this child could be no more than six years old and his legs and sometimes stomach were plagued with bruises. He guessed that was why Jacob was so comfortable with him. He was used to seeing something unnatural. And the people here were probably accustomed to Jacob.

Jacob hung around Erik for nearly the rest of the day. Erik found his company nice and helped fill the void of Meg. Erik found the library and poured over their collection of books. Jacob did the same, though he confessed later that he had read almost all the books once before. Erik looked at Jacob and thought about how this is what it would be like to have his own child, to sit and read together to do things together and he liked it. If only there was another person, a certain female, here that could share this moment with him. _'I must get ahold of myself!'_

* * *

Meg had barely spoken to Raoul or Christine since she had arrived. They came close to forcing her out of the house an into theirs and treated it like Meg had been staying there for years. Christine acted like nothing had happened and they were best friends sharing secrets again. The only problem was, Christine had her fair share of secrets. She disappeared for hours at a time at the opera house, leaving Meg with no notion of what was happening; leaving her to find out that she was with the Phantom the whole time. Things were not going to go back to normal for Meg. Christine had betrayed her, and humiliated the Phantom. Publicly. A soft knock on her door roused her from her thoughts.

"Come in," She answered quietly.

"Meg," Christine said, entering the room and sitting on the stool accompanying the vanity table. "I came to ask, why did you follow us under the opera house? Why did you come down there?"

"To be completely honest at first I came down to make sure you were okay but you and Raoul had already passed by the time I got down there. And then I kept going forward. I don't really know why, but I ventured into a tunnel near his bedroom and followed my instincts until I found him. I found him sobbing. Christine, this man that instilled fear on almost every person in the opera house was crumpled on the floor sobbing because you deceived him. You have also deceived me." She explained, hesitant about the last part.

"People keep telling me I have deceived him but I do not know how for I just followed my heart. And please tell me why I can make it right!"

"You stayed with him for hours upon hours: voluntarily. And you made him think you actually had feelings for him. He has known nothing of love or emotional attachment. You defended him. And yet, you chose another right in front of him. You pitied him when he needed your love. For months you spent countless hours in the bowels of the opera house, leaving all of us to wonder where you had run off to; some people rumored that you had run of with Raoul.

"You did not even tell me why. You kept it a secret from me, all while you kept telling me we were sisters; we were kindred spirits. You lied to me and I cannot bear it."

"Dear Meg, you must forgive me. I did not want to hurt you. But why did you want to stay with him?"

"I forgive you, but I do not think I could ever forget." Meg turned away to keep herself from meeting the devastated gaze of Christine. "I stayed with him because I saw a different side of him that you never spent the time to see. A man who was gentle and kind and playful. We talked endlessly about anything we could ever dream of." The distant smile Meg got upon her face was enough to let Christine know what was going on.

"Meg, this man, he killed people. He killed Joseph Buquet, he killed Piangi, not to mention he burnt down our home." Christine said desperately trying rid Meg of good impressions of this man. "He loved me enough that he would kill anyone for me."

"If he had not killed Buquet, Buquet would have surely killed him. Buquet was a poor excuse for a man and spent ample time running around with risqué ballerinas and groping women. Why is it you think my mother warned us never to be in a room alone with him? As for Piangi, he lives. Erik merely knocked him unconscious so that he may perform your duet. He is a different man!"

"I see your love for him has blinded you to the fact he is a manipulative cold-hearted individual who preys on young vulnerable women."

"No Christine. Perhaps it is you who are the manipulative cold-hearted individual." Meg said with a tone of finality. "I cannot stay here any longer. I must go. If Isaac calls on me, tell him I am sorry but I have returned to my Uncle's home. I shall always love you in the bottom of my heart, Christine but I cannot sit here while you are blind to the true facts. Goodbye." With that, Meg gathered the skirts of the pale lavender dress Christine lent her, and left.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm back! Here's chapter five, I would've posted this weekend, but I was at a folk/bluegrass music festival/campout in the country and it was awesome! But no service or anything.

Hope you enjoyed!

**Anon Reviews: **_newbornphanatic: _You're right, you were talking about Christine! My bad, I had just replied to a review about Meg so, she was on the mind. But yes, Christine does tend to get her way with her innocence. And yes, Erik had to leave to break the story up just a little bit, it won't be for too long, Remember I mentioned things move a little fast for the two! haha Hope you enjoyed!

**Good? Bad? Lemme know!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

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Almost an hour later she arrived back at her uncle's home. It did not feel comfortable like it had two weeks ago. She couldn't stay here, she decided. _'I will go to Meaux and stay.'_ She did not know why she chose Meaux but she had, and that's where she would stay.

She gathered anything she thought she'd need and went into Paris to get a carriage and a new wardrobe. The nice men at the carriage house told her to give them forty minutes to get a carriage and horses ready to take her to Meaux. She ventured out into the big city to find somewhere where she could buy some new shoes. Her toe shoes were close to falling apart, and she needed real shoes. She found the First Bank of Paris and asked for three hundred francs.

Almost 14 years of demanding twenty thousand francs a month from Monsieur Lefevre and the short months Firmin and André worked there certainly paid off. With over three million francs, the Phantom had enough money to last three lifetimes.

She finally found a small boutique where she bought plenty of beaded, leather soled, slippers, three pairs of fancy high-heeled shoes in black, silver, and gold, one pair of house slippers, and two pairs of toe shoes; one pink and one black. She also got a new corset, a new winter cloak, two evening gowns; one green over lay with black underneath and one blue, new underthings, one artistic dress; a pale pink, and four leisure dresses; a blue one with lighter blue stripes, a black one, a white one, and a pale green one. She bought a small trunk to put her things in and still had enough to get to Meaux to get a room until she found a boarding house and temporary work.

On the long carriage ride there, she thought about things, she went to play with a lock of her hair, a habit she had always had but remembered it was pinned. She hated when her hair was pinned. When she observed Christine and Raoul, Raoul seemed to truly love Christine; you could see it in his eyes. One glance and you'd know that he loved her. While Christine, you know she admired him and enjoyed his company but she wasn't glowing like an engaged woman should be. Meg thought may she was looking too far into the situation. She supposed she was trying to make up for hurting Christine so badly to defend the Phantom. The thought she had left her best friend was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Although Christine and herself butted heads on this, Meg still thought of Christine like a sister. She smoothed down the skirt of the lilac dress absent-mindedly.

She also wondered what the Phantom was doing. No doubt out and about doing other things instead of wasting his time pondering what could've been. Meg decided that women would rather waste away with sorrow than move on from their first loves than to move on and find another like men. She hated that she acted like this, so hung up on him that she had to leave he own family's house cause it was too painful and stifling to stay there.

She was disappointed in herself for thinking that this man was different from the ones she had been slightly interested in. He more than likely saw her as a little girl, a spec of dust upon a grand staircase. _'Well,' _she thought._ 'I'm not going to waste away like every other woman filled with woe. I will find a place to stay and I will teach dance.' _Her glory days of being a dancer were over and she needed to find real work. She was almost twenty-two years old and she was unmarried and without a home.

A couple of hours into the trip, she noticed the carriage start to slow, she put down her book and looked out the curtain. They had stopped in a small town and was informed they were stopping for a few minutes to rest and feed the horses.

"Excuse me, where have we stopped?" She asked the driver

"Pantin, I believe, miss." She nodded in thank and walked away to see what there was in this town. It was a quaint place, a little small but it was a nice transition from the big city. She passed a library and saw a tall man in a dark cloak with dark slicked back hair, and thought for a minute that it was the Phantom, but she saw that he was next to a small boy. She kept walking, and found a bookstore.

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Erik felt the eyes of someone on his back and momentarily blocked Jacob out to peer behind him, The figure was turned but she had blond hair and looked petite. He could've sworn it was Meg but, her hair was pinned -which Meg mentioned in one of their discussions that she detested when her hair was pinned back- and she was in a lilac leisure dress. He had left Meg his account number but the dress looked very fancy and expensive and he knew for a fact that even when he had over three million francs she would not spend that much on herself. She walked on, and he turned back to Jacob, telling himself his mind was playing tricks on him.

Although, why should it? He did not miss her like a lover for she was nothing close to that. She was simply his friend. He could not be with her, so why would he tell himself that he loved her and miss her so much he could barely stand it? He would forget her eventually and move on with his life.

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"Good afternoon, Mademoiselle." A lovely woman in a powder blue dress greeted Meg as she walked into the book store. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

"I'm just browsing as I pass through, but thank you." Meg said politely.

"Where are you passing from if I may ask?" The woman asked, The bookstore was small but every wall was filled with books. You could not see one spec of wall if you tried, even behind the counter there were books. There was a spiral staircase that led to an upper level, and Meg guessed that it was an apartment.

"Paris, to Meaux. I'm Meg." She brought her attention back to the woman and held out her hand, the woman held it in hers.

"Lovely to meet you, I'm Rachel." Rachel smiled. "What causes you to move from a lovely city like Paris to Meaux?"

"I just needed to get away, if you know what I mean." She said hesitantly. Rachel gave her an inquisitive look. "I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. In my own home. I helped a man who had not done good things get away from a mob of people who were surely to kill him, he stayed with me for a month. And one day, he left; he never came back. So, I left in hopes that I would find someone else."

"You loved each other, yes?" She asked with sadness in her eyes.

"I loved him, yes. I do not think he loved me back." Meg stated, looking down at her hands. "I thought maybe he did but he left."

"Sometimes people leave, you don't know why. But sometimes it's for a reason, and they'll come back again. If God meant for this man to be in your life, then he will put him back there again."

"But why would God take him away in the first place?" Meg had never been religious, she had never had time working at the opera house to attend church. She had always been interested in Christianity and now that she was not working at the opera house, she decided she could attend church more often.

"God works in mysterious ways, dear, and we do our part by not asking questions and trusting in Him." Rachel stated, and Meg nodded. She didn't understand, but she would do her best to trust. She felt like Rachel was telling the truth, if the Phantom was meant to be in Meg's life, then he would be. "I wish you had been here just an hour earlier for our evening service, there's a man with wonderful intellect here who would be pleased to tell you more. If you ever pass back through and he is still here I shall introduce the two of you. His name it Matthew. He may shock you upon first meeting but we've all grown accustomed to his oddities. I've never seen anyone pick up religion and understand it as he does. He stays at our house and we sit and talk for hours. Look at me, going on as if I'm his mother trying to find a match for him."

"I shall most definitely love to meet him, but I really must go, my carriage will be leaving soon. May I write you in the future? I wish to visit again soon."

"Of course, I hope we will become good friends." She wrote something down, and handed the slip of paper to Meg, it was an address. Meg nodded and bade farewell again before making it back to her carriage. The town was very quaint filled with many lovely people. Meg couldn't help but to pass the library yet again, though when she passed, it looked to be empty. She continued on her way to the carriage, and left the small town soon after.

They traveled well into the night, and she fell asleep a little less than half way there. She couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

They arrived just as the sun was rising. Meg's dreams were filled with visions of the Phantom. She disregarded them, set on moving on and making a life of what she has. She couldn't wallow in her own self-pity anymore, it was only holding her back. She asked the men to take her to a boarding house. They took her to the house de Meaux, a small family owned boarding house in the middle of town. The town itself was a little bigger than Pantin, and had more people. The boarding house was medium-sized, and filled halfway full of people. It was easy for Meg to rent a room for a while, and she unpacked her bag and went down stairs for breakfast. She met a young woman, no older than twenty-four that was staying at the boarding house while her husband was away for a year; she never specified what he was gone for. Her name was Claire, and she was the daughter of a clergyman. She was going to the morning service after breakfast and invited Meg to go, she accepted the offer.

"I hope you'll enjoy you're stay here. Are you here for an extended period?" Claire asked on the way to the church just down the street from the boarding house.

"I'm actually hoping to start a dance school and make a life here." Meg confessed.

"I know a woman, Madame Clause, who leases apartments, I'm sure you could rent there. I could introduce you." She offered, Meg nodded enthusiastically.

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Erik came into the house to hear Rachel, Daniel's wife, talking excitedly about a customer that stopped in. It seemed every day there was a new customer that came in that positively enthralled Rachel. He brought Jacob into the room in the middle of this woman's life story.

"She brought him back from something and he stayed with her for a month! Just them two in the house. She said if she had not taken him in, there was a mob that was sure to kill him. She said that one day, he just left. So I asked her if they loved each other. And she said that she loved him but was unsure of his feelings for her." Erik was puzzled. That sounded almost exact to his story, but he did not know Meg loved him. He thought she only helped him, like her mother had; to show him compassion.

But he did not leave, she left. She left with Christine and Raoul, never to come back. She had offered no resistance. But maybe she had just been in too much shock to resist. He shook his head; it was ridiculous. What being could love him? Not even his own mother loved him. She locked him away, leaving him to his own devices. Driving him to madness. "She said she was going to write to me and plan to visit again. She went to stay in Meaux, I believe. I think she mentioned she was going to start a school of dance."

"If I may, I must inquire to whom this woman was?" Daniel asked the question Erik was begging to address.

"Her name was. . .Meg. Yes that's it, Meg." Erik's eyes widened. Surely it could not be? Every day her face occupied his mind and to think she was the one who had passed by the window! Yes he admitted he was in love with Marguerite Giry! He could not live in the denial of it any longer, Christine made her decision why did he feel like he was betraying her by admiring Meg? His heart raced at the thought that maybe they would be reunited again so that they may be together and his world of solitude would dissolve.

"Matthew, are you feeling quite alright? You're breathing so fast, dear, you'd think you'd just ran a mile." Rachel commented, that was when he realized that he was surrounded by people who thought he was just a poor man from Paris. It was time to come clean, and Erik hoped that they didn't hate him too much.

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**A/n: So here's my new chapter sorry it's super late and probably not that great!**

**Anon Reviews:**

_newbornphanatic: _I have a very particular taste in bluegrass but I will check it out! And Christine will eventually make amends but I still like treating Christine the way she deserves it!

**Good? Bad? Lemme know!**


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